About Page: If You’ve Ever Given Your Heart to an Animal…
This blog is entitled “The End of an Era” because when our baby Isabella leaves this earth, I will walk out of this life and into another.
I’ve been companioned by animals my entire life, and my adult years have been nothing short of genius, as I’ve had the pleasure of living with my soul mates, each extraordinary.
Izzy is the last. My husband Silas and I have decided to travel part of each year, to explore the possibilities of meeting our soul tribe across the planet. Our desire to meet kindred spirits, visit inspiring places, and explore beauty in art, nature and culture has trumped our decision to adopt any more four-footed children. At least for now. (Moving animals from country to country often involved quarantines and other unfortunate conditions not pressed on human children, only animal kids.) And while our plans for a new life is an intoxicating thought, it also scares the bejeezus out of me. My animal friends have been the central, pulsing core of my life.
There was Tink. She came to me after I was paralyzed from the neck down on an operating table during a routine surgery. A severe spiritual crisis tested me during the years of my recuperation, and Tink came swooping into my life to regrow my spine, to restore my spirit, and to give my life its wings.
There was Zeus, who appeared under my washing machine at one day old, orphaned, blind and deaf. He decided to live in my sports bra, nestled against my heart, for 440 days. Until he came along my heart was a muscle, a machine pumping vital blood to all my organs. After his arrival it became a radiant jewel in the palms of a soft, fuzzy creature.
And there’s Izzy. She’s my soul. My joy. My laughter. She’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a child. Perhaps she is my inner child, made manifest. And with her departure, I will have to be the charm, the sweetness, the joy.
If your animal friends are soul mates, then you know what a tough decision this is for me. Transition and transformation are rarely easy and often intimidating. Saying goodye to your soul mate is one of the most primal, most painful experiences. Ever. But saying goodbye knowing that you’ll perhaps not meet another, that there’s not another friend waiting in the wings to soften the absence, that, in a way, you’re leaving, too…
Well. That’s suspension. Transition. Jumping off the high wire, hoping there’s a pair of hands out there, somewhere, to catch you, but not knowing, not seeing. Only trusting.
That’s why I’m taking this journey with you. I’m writing this path, recording my awkward steps on it, and ultimately the blind leaps of faith, hoping there will be hands (and maybe some paws, too) out there to help, to catch.
If you’ve loved
If you’ve lost
If you’ve ever searched for home
I hope you’ll join me.